Gates of War
by Pkd
Summary: When a mysterious gate similar to the Dark Portal appears up to unleash legions of ruthless, depraved invaders. The Alliance assemble an expedition led by Prince Arthas and Sylvanas Windrunner to journey through the gate to explore and halt further attacks by the Empire of Sadera as the drums of war beat. Post-Warcraft 3 & AU-verse.
1. Chapter 1

"Soldiers of the Empire! Your time of glory has arrived this very day!" Legate Julius proudly proclaimed to the legions of men and auxillaries before him.

Surrounding him were lines of Trebuchet and archers firing at and over the walls of the city they were laying siege to and soon breach its very gates – where a battering ram was curretly trying to break the main gate. In return for their effort, the massive legions of the Empire were gifted with hundreds of sharp arrows, large ballista, and thundering sounds that spewed iron spheres; all of which devastated those who were unlucky to be in the aim of the defender's wrath.

Much to the annoyance of the Legate, the majority of the iron spheres were aimed at the trebuchets, decimating his siege engines. Then he saw a great ball of fire flying towards another line of siege equipment and engulfed them when it landed, the flames eating away the wood and melting the skin of its crew who screamed in agony. Those damn mages were becoming a major problem for his army, their blasted spells overpowering those in service of the empire.

His first assault sending in ladders to scale the towers ended in a failure when the ladders were destroyed by fire and ice. And from there on they periodically conducted spells that killed several dozens of his men every now and then, doing it safe from their beloved walls, the cowards even managed to down few wyvern riders. No matter, they would soon breach the gates and slaughter them all for their defiance.

Off course there was getting plunder and slaves from the city, he couldn't forget that. Prince Zorzal wanted fresh bodies to replace the old stocks, the prince promising him fortunes if he brought around 50 new female slaves. The younger the better the prince told him.

"The gates of our enemies are about to fall before our might! They may think they're safe from us behind their precious walls, but you are the soldiers of the Empire!" He waved his sword as the legions of soldiers started to get restless for the coming battle. "We have triumph over countless foes that dared to face us, the glory of our empire and might leading us to complete victory over the barbarians!" The Legate cried out.

That was when the gate was finally breached giving his forces the opening to take the city. "The gate has been breached! Charge sons of the Empire! Bring forth glory, slaves, and treasures for the Emperor and the Empire!" Julius roared pointing his blade at the destroyed gate as his troops let out a war cry, charging in forward like a horde of ravenous locust.

* * *

"Soldiers of the Alliance! We have endured many hardships and battles together, from the swarms of the undead scourge to the demonic powers of the Burning Legion, we fought with tooth and blood standing here today!" Turalyon yelled out as he rallied the defenders to the main gate of Stratholme to contain the invaders from enroaching the city. "As long as we stand together we will prevail! For the Alliance!" The High General screamed.

"FOR THE ALLIANCE!" The majority of the cities footmen, archers, riflemens, mages, rangers, and paladins gathered near the gatehouse roared as one as they formed defensive formation; regardless if they were humans, elves, or dwarves. Footmen armed with shields, spears, and swords took position in the front to bear the brunt of the charge while ranged units were at their rear to lend support safe from the enemy.

Turalyon looked upon the formation of Alliance soldiers from all walks of life, united in a common purpose to one another and the defence of the city. This sight wouldn't be too common several years ago where the old Alliance of Lordaeron was slowly falling apart before his eyes; that is until the Third War came when the invasion of the Scourge and the Burning Legion united them closer then ever. More mixed-race formation, and more humans becoming rangers and elves becoming paladins.

It was regrettable that such unity and friendship came at a heavy cost for everybody involved and the losses of several kingdoms. Loraderon's fall entering the forefront of his mind.

"Father I'm here." A voice spoke to him.

The High General looked to his left to see his son Arator running over to him. He could see his son dressed in his paladin outfit of robe and armor of yellow and black color, along with a greatsword held on his back and knife on each of his pauldron. Turalyon remembered the day how proud he and Alleria were when Arator became a Paladin of the Silverhand.

"Arator, good to see you unharmed." Relief filled Turalyon briefly.

"Same to you father." Arator replied. "Mother is rallying our ranged troops on the walls to keep withering down on the forces at the gate to slow them down."

"They breached the gate!" A footman warned.

"Never mind." Arator sighed.

"Son, I need you to get any remaining civilians to the secondary line of defence within the inner sections." Turalyon quickly ordered his son.

"Father, I can help."

"Sorry Arator, I need you to help defend the secondary defence in case I fail to contain them here. And besides your mother would kill me if I let you in the brunt of the battle." Turalyon slightly joked at the end to lift some tension of the coming battle.

Arator tried to protest but decided it was not the time to argue as he made his way to his destination.

The last of the orignal five of the Knights of the Silver Hand turned to face the destroyed gate as swarms of enemy soldiers charged forward. Despite the damage they were inflicting from the walls and cannon and guard towers, along with having mages and cannons; the relentless resistance they were putting up didn't seemed to cull down their numbers fast enough for his likings. The scouts reported some time ago of the enemy forces numbering over 50,000 from where they could see.

The odds didn't sound great in his opinion. The garrison on Stratholme was around 5000 troops of various races and roles, enough to defend the city and sending in a response force to intercept intruding undead or demons from the west of Lordaeron. They would able to hold out long, but they need a large reinforcements to relieve them soon least more lives are lost.

"Hold them here soldiers of the Alliance! We will stop their advance here and now!" Turalyon shouted. "First ranks, spears ready! All rifleman, archers, and mages ready to lend support."

"For the Light and the Alliance!" The defenders shouted.

Turalyon saw the first vanguard of the enemies crashing into the first rank of footmen. Many of them appeared to be orcs, humanoid pigs, and weird hybrid of trolls and humans. They crashed into the shields of the footmen where many were skewered by spears while others tried to ineffectively bash they way through. The paladin noted the orc look-a-likes appeared to be weaker than the ones of the Horde. The remaining ones were human but dressed in clothes like that of the Vrykul in Northrend or appeared to be a glorified bandit outfit.

Eventually the main bulk of the enemies, humans in unfamiliar armor rushing to the battle in a shield formation as they smashed into the formation, quickly descending into a bloody tug of war. Shields banged against each other, and spears thrusted through armor and flesh. The footmen of the Alliance proved to have the upperhand in the fight with their superior plate armoring and strength, resulting in many imperials stopped in their progress or killed with little damage dealt to the footmen.

Many of the footmen here were veterans of the 2nd and 3rd war and the following conflicts that erupted afterwards. So facing these strange humans, they were rather easy to deal with if it weren't for the never ending tides of them coming through the breached gate. The rifleman, archers, and mages provided needed range support for the defending footmen as dwarven rifleman firing together in a volley behind the safety of footmen's shield as dozens of enemies fell to the devastating rounds; archers of both humans and elves either let loose arrow volleys or hitting targets of opporuntity they deemed special, the arrows hitting the targets they were aimed at; while mages unleashed their devastating arcanic magics on them as fireballs, pillars of fire, ice arrow storm, and lighting strikes wiping out many within enemy lines. Meanwhile the priest and priestress were healing any wounds their allies suffered which allowed them to recover from majority of blows thrown at them.

"Well this is going rather well." Turalyon remarked as he saw several spearmen shove their foes to the ground and spearing them, then quickly blocking enemy strikes as they slowly pushed them back.

"It appears Turalyon." A female voice called out.

Turalyon turned around to see his wife Alleria coming over to him with several of her rangers. Just looking at her stopped his heart for a long moment. His elven wife always looked beautiful no matter the situation they were in or the grime and wounds she gathered. Her blue eyes were filled with mixture of relief and concern, relief that he was safe and concern on where their son was at.

"Turalyon, good to see you unharmed love." Alleria greeted. "Where's Arator?" Her face morphed to concern for her son.

"I sent him to the 2nd line of defence to escort remaining citizens there and help organize the defence over there." Turalyon replied, alleviating her fears.

"Thank goodness he is safe." The ranger captain sighed in relief.

"Same thing. But what's the situation on the walls?" Turalyon asked.

"The walls are secured from any scalings by the enemy. My rangers and rifleman are keeping them away from the walls." Alleria reported. "However the bad news is that the enemy have dozens of mounted drakes heading to the city."

Dragons… He only had several Griffon riders as majority were on other duties that took them out of the city. Turalyon was very well aware of how much mounted drakes could do as the orcish horde proved during the 2nd War; where orcs used enslaved red dragons to great effect on Alliance forces.

"They have aerial mounts!" One of the archers yelled out. Causing Turalyon and Alleria to look up to see the mentioned dragon mounts – now resembling proto-drakes – flying in fast and diving down to the city to inflict chaos.

All range troops diverted their support to the footmen and melee units to fend off the incoming aerial units. Many shots missed against drake-like creatures, though few landed hits but did not inflict enough damage to bring them down. The hostile proto-drakes used their claws and speed to pick up lone soldiers and drop them high in the air or simply plow through ranks of any unlucky individuals. Mages threw in their support against the proto-drakes, doing much better than the rifleman and archers as the draconic creatures started to fall down one by one. Guard and cannon towers lended help taking occasional shots against the creatures who flew near them.

One of the dying proto-drakes fell towards a group of Alliance soldiers locked in a shield struggle with enemies. The footmen were forced to evade the crashing corpse, but it left them and their defensive line vulnerable as the enemy viciously assaulted the hole in the alliance formation, trying to break through and overwhelm the defenders.

Then several dozens of centaurs charged through the gate armed with spears, the humans giving way for the charging horsemen to gallop at the shield wall of footmen. The spears of footmen stabbed dozens of centaurs causing many of them to whine in pain and bleeding badily, but many others succeded and bursted through the shield wall as the centaurs attacked the disorientated footmen. With a large portion of the enemy formation shattered, the imperial soldiers let out a warcry and continued their assault to show the barbarians the might of the Empire.

Several ogre-like monsters emerged through the gatehouse – each of them yielding a wooden club and foot outfitted in armoured boots –stomped their way to the alliance forces, iron clanking against the stone ground. The ogre monsters kicked away Alliance troops with their armoured boots or smashing unlucky individuals with their cubs. Many of the ogres soon fell under the brutal fire of ranged troops, the raw power of guns and precise skills of elven archers and the acranic powers of mages decimating them. But the ogres and centaurs done their job of breaking the lines to allow the legions of the Empire to swarm the defenders.

Turalyon smacked away a centaur, its body letting out a sickening crunch as bones and flesh ripped apart. He turned around to see a charging enemy calvary coming at him with a spear; which he narrowly avoided and swung his hammer against the officer's chest, sending him flying to the ground with a carved in bloodied chest armor. Another band of spearmen tried to gut him but destroyed their spear with ease and swinging it one more time to brutally end their life. He then called upon the powers of the light and healed several soldiers with minor injuries, allowing them back into the fight. Many soldiers became weary of attacking him, the knight with the hammer fighting as if he was some sort of apostle.

Alleria greeted any foes that dared to approach her from any angles with a arrow to the face. The blood elf ranger was one with the wind as she swiftly dispatched each of her foes one by one, the only sound she hear was her bow shooting through the air. For the invaders they were struck by her swiftness in the battle as she dodged every attack with such elegance and like a leaf on a wind firing her bow where her eyes stared. The Windrunner released her arrow straight into the eye of the last ogre, the creature roaring in pain as it grasped its bleeding eye as eye fluids mixed with blood leaked out of the wound. The ogre's misery ended when Alleria released another arrow to its throat. The ranger glanced to her left to see soldier with few others behind charging at her, so she fired off a arrow which shot through all of their mouths.

"They're heading to the 2nd line of defence!" A ranger cried out, catching Turalyon and Alleria's attention as they saw from a distance of hundreds of enemy soldiers with calvary marching away from the battle to the interior of the city. Additional roars brought their attention to the sky as they saw dozens more proto-drakes entering the city.

"Fall back! Fall back to the secondary defence!" Turalyon ordered as he and his wife and all remaining alliance forces fought their way to intercept the mass of Imperial troops intruding deeper into the city, and regroup with others deep within the city.

He really needed that reinforcement.

* * *

 **This universe takes place in a AU post-Warcraft 3 setting where events of the Third War and after went differently that altered the fate of certain characters, dead or alive. Like the Alliance Expedition of the Dark Portal returning home safely, a portion of Lordaeron still under Alliance control, Prince Arthas avoided the fate of becoming a Death Knight, and the Blood Elves still a member of the Alliance.**


	2. Reinforcements

Arator parried the blade of the foreign human invader, and used the opening to nearly bisect him across the waist. The armoured human fell down with a thump as large quantities of blood began to gather around his fallen body. A spearman tried to stab him behind his back but Arator dodged the attack, which only scratched his Judgement armor. He then swung his sword at the offender, slashing across his chest as blood splattered over his armor and onto Arator's armor.

The paladin turned right to see several cavalrymen charging at him with their spears; he saw their eyes were like that of an orc eager to spill blood, eager to gain glory and satisfy their bloodlust. The half-elf grimaced and conjured the Divine Shield spell as an impenetrable shield of light surrounded from any harm. When the first spear struck him, the attacker's morphed to that of surprise as his weapon did not inflict any damage to his foe, and he soon screamed when the paladin's blade pierced through his chest. The other mounted infantry saw this and tried to surround him while attacking at once in hopes of killing him. However because of the invincibility spell, Arator soon slayed the cavalrymen one by one as his sword drew blood and wrecked metal.

The half-elf son of Turalyon and Alleria looked to his rear at the boundary of the inner city where the 2nd line of defence was located. Alliance soldiers finishing off the remaining soldiers and their auxiliaries; healing their wounded to get them ready for further treatment or for the next fight; and others prepping for the next battle that will soon come and not give them relief. Arator counted at least several hundred bodies laying before the defensive lines manned by over thousand soldiers. From what he had heard from others regrouping with them, thousands upon thousands of men were coming into the city.

The odds didn't sound great.

"Arator, Are you alright?" He felt a hand tap his shoulder.

Arator turned around to see his friend Caeen Sunblade, a blood elf battlemage, looking at him with a slight look of concern.

The male Blood Elf with brown hair and grey eyes was in his Aldor Regalia set worn by many mages of the Alliance. Held in his right hand was a blade he used in conjunction with his arcanic powers as a battlemage. He met Caeen when he was officially inducted into the Knights of the Silver Hand and visiting his cousins at Dalaran, where he managed to prevent a scuffle from happening between him and a Night Elf druidess. After introducing each other – Caeen was surprised to meet the son of Alleria Windrunner – the rest was history with he and him forming a group to fight for the Alliance and taking up quests needing to be completed.

"Aside from wanting to get a good night's rest after this, not so much." Arator responded with a shrug.

"So the usual." The battlemage said.

"How about you?" The paladin decided to return the favor.

"Annoyance that I had to expend more mana than usual on those weaklings." He scoffed. "Seriously, these ones are something the footmen can easily handle on their own."

"Do I hear Sunblade is losing his touch?" A feminine asked in a teasing tone.

Arator and Caeen – with a scowl on his face – turned to see Nelysae Shadowstar looking at them. The female Night Elf druid looked no worse than them with blood splatters over her Marlone Regalia harness set, face, and over her bladed fist weapon. She was much taller than them like a typical Night Elf, along with amber eyes, silver hair, and a purple skin.

Oh and one interesting fact, she was the night elf druidess when Arator first meet Caeen in Dalaran. So when she joined in the group, it led to some interesting interaction between her and Caeen in the past years.

"Shadowstar, you look no worse than usual." Caeen grunted in annoyance. "You look like you took a dip in Undead crap."

"Says the battlemage who seemed who seem unable to handle a bunch of rabble without using his magic." Nelysae taunted. "All the while I was healing our wounded, attacking entire platoons of soldiers, and getting their attention on me so our forces could get to them unharmed."

Caeen's face went red at the retort and shot back. "I do recall saving you from few close calls when you were little too busy charging straight into their formation."

Before the Night Elf could responded, a voice called out their friend/group leader's name.

"Arator!" Alleria cried out as she and Turalyon along with thousands of other troops ran towards the inner city defence. Arator saw all of them covered with a varying degree of blood, gore and wounds, showing his parents and their troops had been in the thick of it.

"Mother, Father! What's happening?" Arator asked.

Alleria let out a sigh as she told him of the current situation at hand. "The enemy broke through the lines and are swarming the city. The forces here with us is all that's left but they're other pockets scattered over the city." She said though her voice sounded uncertain. "I don't know how long they'll last."

"The rest of their forces are heading this way in less than half an hour." Turalyon said. "They're busy burning and looting the city to push on." The famous Paladin said, feeling enraged at the sight of the city pillaged by the invaders. "What's the situation on your end, son?"

Arator looked back behind and reported. "We had several hundred of the invaders attack us, but we fended them off. We have many wounded and the healers are being pushed beyond their limit. Good news is that we have plenty of ammunition and powers for the guns."

Then not too far from where they were, a enemy proto-drake body fell down to the ground with a bone-shattering impact. The rider burnt and twitching from the lighting strike he was struck with from a Gryphon rider's stormhammer. The Gryphon landed down on top of the proto-drake corpse, and the dwarven rider on it brought his fist to his chest in respect to his officers.

"High General! We have the bulk of the enemy forces marching to this location here soon! Their numbers go over tens of thousands!" The rider reported.

Turalyon grimaced at this and yelled out a new order. "Forces of the Alliance, get to your positions and prepare for battle! The enemy is coming here soon!"

The remaining defenders of the city quickly reorganised themselves to battle positions or preparing the cannons or finishing healing the wounded for what may possibly be their last stand.

* * *

Centurion Paulus was becoming increasingly restless. He looked upon the city with anger and longing as he and his cohorts were given the inglorious task of being the reserves and lookout of their rear.

He could sense the disappointment and restlessness emitting from his men, but well hidden through their discipline, though he knew there were limits to one's self control when their chance of glory and riches were denied in front of them. Much as he shared the same sentiment, Paulus reminded themselves that there will be a chance for him and his cohort if they meet more foes in the future.

He then saw on of his fellow centurion, a fine man named Balbus, approaching him with a annoyed look.

"Ah Balbus my friend, it's good to see you."

"It is Paulus. I can see you grow tire of this duty." Balbus observed.

"Yes, standing in guard while the other legio's and cohorts take the glory." Paulus bemoaned. "Aren't you acting as messenger between our forces here and inside the city?"

Balbus groaned as he massaged his face. "Yes my friend, I am. I can say the battle in the city is going good for us. We have pushed the enemies back and slowly taking control of the city in the name of the Empire, along with dozens of captives we've snatched. Though the losses we're suffering is making me a little concerned."

"Concerned? We're the Empire my friend! It doesn't matter what losses we take, we shall stand over our foes."

"We've lost over 20,000 men and auxiliaries at this point and our dragon rider corps have suffered catastrophic losses." Balbus told him. "We still haven't wiped out the bulk of the defenders, whose great sorceries and tools have killed many of our men."

"Do not worry my friend, as long as we do not gi- Do you hear that?" Paulus asked his fellow centurion.

"Hear what?" Balbus's face went confused.

"Listen carefully, it's in the skies."

Balbus listened carefully, looking at the skies at what his friend was referring to. He caught on to what Paulus was talking of and was puzzled by the sound of what sounded like a great whirl of wind and blades chopping through the air. Then the clouds above him were blown away which revealed a golden head of a eagle figurehead as the object it was attached to came into view. Balbus and Paulus were shocked at the massive flying ship above them. They saw it was armed with numerous things that spew iron balls and fire. And attached to port and starboard of the flying ship were these blade thing spinning around incredibly fast.

Then they heard sounds and flash of lights appear from the distances to the their south and west where. They felt the earth shake at the sound of an enemy army approaching to retake their city. Soon enough they saw their enemies appear from over the horizon, the army from the west appeared carrying banners of red and gold; while the other army from the south came with banners of the letter "L" coloured with white and blue.

And both armies were rushing in fast, letting out mighty war cries that could be heard leagues away. The flying ship above them then unleashed its wrath as cannons fired rounds after rounds into the ranks of the Empire's legions, killing dozens of men with every shot. The Empire's rear ranks went to disarray and panic at the sight of the vengeful flying ship, and the unexpected reinforcements coming to their rear.

Like a raging waves of a stormy sea crashing into a boat, the two armies of Silvermoon and Lordaeron crashed into the rear of the mighty legion of the Empire of Sadera.

"Onward to the city, men of Lordaeron!" Arthas Menethil shouted as he swung his hammer from his steed to smash his attacker's head into a gory mess. "For Stratholme, for Lordaeron!" He cried out as he smashed a centurion's head like a melon.

"For Quel'Thalas! For Silvermoon!" Sylvanas Windrunner shouted as she let loose her arrow upon any invaders in front of her. One cavalrymen tried to spear her but she put a arrow through his mouth for his attempted action.

The combined armies of the Blood Elves and Lordaeron remnants charged through the unknown army, tearing through their unprepared and disorganised ranks as the gunship Might of Lordaeron, mortar teams, mages, and few steam tanks bombarded them with impunity. Soldiers of both elves and human cleaved through the ranks of the enemy human soldiers and the remaining auxiliaries, fueled by righteous fury at their comrades in the city under attack by these invaders.

Imperial legionnaires founded themselves hammered by the superior fighting force of the Alliance as technology and magic combined proved a formidable fighting force whom experienced numerous hardships and battles. Lordaeronians and Blood Elves fought their way through, striking down every foe who got in their way, pushing back the enemy from the city. The disorganised state of the army prevented them from forming into defensive formation to take the brunt of the assault.

The rank-and-file fighting force of the Alliance were proving to be a formidable foe to face against. However the adventurers and champions were making themselves nightmares for the Imperial legions, as highly skilled fighters composed mostly of paladins, warriors, druids, shamans, and mages plowed their way through rows and rows of enemy soldiers like a scythe reaping through the crops.

Arthas and Sylvanas were the tip of the spear of the reinforcements; the Prince of Lordaeron smashed through the opposition as his powers with the Light protected him from harm and laying down retribution to the invaders. Light's Vengeance smashing against the bodies of legionnaires, crushing flesh and armor as blood stained against the hammer. While the Ranger-General was swift as the wind, arrow after arrow unleashed like a storm as each one pierced through the exposed spots of the enemies armor and bringing down foes in one hit. And when she used her blades, she weaved through the ranks of the enemy, each slash cutting apart vital portions of their flesh that killed instantly or let them bleeding heavily.

The combined armies of Silvermoon and Lordaeron broke through the ranks of the enemies all the way to the gatehouse. Where half the relief force remained outside to deal with the forces outside; while the other half entered the cities to relief the besieged defenders and clear out all enemy soldiers inside.

The first battle between the Alliance and the Empire of Sadera was over. But the war of the two worlds was far from over, as the drums of war continued to beat on.


	3. Preparations

"So this gate structure was where the invaders came from?" Daelin Proudmoore asked, pointing at the area on the map of Northern Lordaeron where the gate was approximately located near the entrance of Quel'Thalas and Stratholme.

"After the battle ended, scouts trailing the retreating army discovered a large gateway structure where the invaders retreated through." Turalyon reported to the leadership of the Alliance sitting around a ornate wooden table. "We believe this was where the invaders came from."

"A portal then, is it related to the Dark Portal?" King Magni inquired.

"Similar yet different. Our mages have reported that the gate was conjured by a unknown form of magic. No traces of the arcane or fel in the gate."

"So it is not the work of the Burning Legion." Tyrande Whisperwind observed.

"That is troubling." Kael'Thas pondered. "A portal opening on a strategic location between two major realms, the entrance of my home and the capital of the Lordaeron remnant. They could easily attack both kingdoms with sufficient numbers."

"Invaders who came from a portal that took them from their world to ours, this is a repeat of the Orcs." King Varian muttered. "Except humans."

The irony wasn't lost on the members who lived through the First and Second War with the Orcish Horde that attacked from the dark portal. Fate seemed to have a strange sense of humor.

"Humans with species resembling orcs, ogres, goblins, and centaurs. They seem to have been used as some sort of support force." Calia Menethil said. "They nearly overwhelmed Stratholme and the defenders if it weren't for my brother and General Windrunner's reinforcements."

"The death count for the enemy forces were over 30,000 soldiers. The estimated number of enemy forces before the battle numbering over 60,000." Turalyon added in. "The number of prisoners we captured is just below 500." He added in.

"Those numbers are over thrice the size of Lordaeron's current overall forces! I do not know how much men the enemy forces have, but if they feel confident to throw around a force rivalling Lordaeron's army at its height, then they'll likely have more on their way." Calia cried out in worry.

"They may have the numbers but the report noted the lack of magic, cannons, and others within their forces. Along with our troops seen taking on several enemies and emerging victorious." Turalyon said. "They have the advantage in the quantity, but lack in quality."

"Quantity is a quality of its own." Kael'Thas muttered, remembering the Scourge onslaught on his home.

"The gate's location still poses a strategic danger to Lordaeron and Quel'Thalas. We need to see what's on the other side of the gate and prevent further attacks through it." Daelin declared.

'Here we go again' Turalyon thought to himself on what was basically another dark portal expedition, which nearly got him and the remnants of the expedition stranded on Draenor.

"Gathering up an expedition force through the gate would be a endeavour with our forces still recovering from the battles and the Third War." Varian noted. "We can't spare too much of our forces since many of them are still guarding strategic locations, observing the Horde, or engaged in skirmishes with the Undead and the remnants of the Burning Legion invasion force."

Tyrande spoke out. "I can only offer a token force of several hundred volunteers, anything larger than that would leave us stretched thin."

"Anything is better than no forces. Besides, your people are important in the observation of Horde territory and the largest Alliance force besides Theramore." Daelin nodded in understanding at the Night Elf High Priestess.

Even with the Horde suffering heavy losses during the Third War, they were still a force to be concerned with and needed to be observed if they were going to repeat the actions of the old horde. The Night Elves were excellent in observing the Horde's movement and territory in case of future tensions.

"I can send over few thousands of my people for the expedition. Repayment for the aid when the Scourge invaded." Kael'thas offered.

Turalyon attempted to volunteer himself to lead the expedition but was shot down by Calia. "Sorry High General, we need you back home defending Stratholme and more important assignments."

"Sylvanas Windrunner and Arthas Menethil shall lead the force."

* * *

 _Several weeks later_

Arthas Menethil observed the Alliance forces gathering outside of Stratholme, referred by many as the "Gate Expedition". A large collection of humans - mainly from Lordaeron with a handful from Stormwind, Blood Elves, Dwarves, Gnomes, and handful of Night Elves. This was what the Alliance was meant to be, different races helping each other in times of need and standing together as one in the face of a great enemy.

They did so in the Third War – albeit barely – and they shall do it again here to go through the gate to investigate the other side and find the one responsible for the invasion. The prince was determined to find whoever ordered the attack that resulted in his people and city being attacked, so he could bring about justice upon them for their action.

Especially the city where everything changed in his life. His kingdom falling apart as the Scourge emerged stronger than ever as demons of the Burning Legion emerged from the portals to defile the land. He has seen cities and towns and their inhabitat slaughtered in gruesome ways or sacrificed for some twisted rituals or brought back as a mindless undead. Countless heros and soldiers gave up their lives so their world could live on.

It was also the last time he saw Jaina ever again. Dead during the Battle of Mount Hyjal against the forces of the Burning Legion from ending Azeroth. Too late for the reinforcements to aid her.

From her sacrifice and the hardships, he swore to himself that he would become a better man so that would not repeat the mistakes of the past. And because of those mistakes he decided to hand the rulership to his sister, believing himself to be unworthy of such leadership and focus on fighting for his kingdom and people.

"Prince Arthas, the army is ready to march." Captain Falric reported.

"Thank you my friend, spread the word to prepare to march upon the gate." Arthas ordered as Falric headed to the camp to relay orders.

Arthas looked around to see where the other expedition leader was and found Sylvanas talking to her sister Alleria and Turalyon. He wasn't sure exactly what they were talking about but he guessed it was advice on going on a expedition through some portal to another world, and the possibilities of getting stranded. A Few feet from her was Nathanos Marris waiting for her to finish her conversation.

"Do not worry sister, Arator would come home unharmed." Sylvanas reassured her sister.

"Alleria, Arator is skilled enough to fight on his own and he has his friends to help him." Turalyon said. "He volunteered to join this expedition himself, there's nothing more we could do."

"I understand my love, but I do not like the thought of Arator going through the gate. I do not wish the fate of him nearly trapped on the other side of the gate, far from home. A fate that nearly befelled on us." Alleria whispered out.

"Don't worry sister, our mages have been studying the gate and making sure it doesn't go unstable." Sylvanas said.

"I pray you're right." Alleria replied.

"As long as the Light is with Arator, he'll be alright." Turalyon said.

"He's trained under you two and others, along with his aunts. Even if he was alone, the enemy would have a hard time defeating him." Sylvanas declared with a smile, remembering the times she looked over Arator's training.

Turalyon then looked around to see the expedition forces getting ready to march as fires were put out, soldiers organised into their units, and siege equipment being prepared to be moved.

"Looks like the army is about to move." The High General observed.

"Lady Windrunner, lord Arthas called forth the army to march to the gate." Nathanos said to Sylvanas.

"Alright, let's go. Shorel'aran sister, Turalyon."

"Shorel'aran Sylvanas." Alleria and Turalyon replied.

"Nathanos, you're riding with me." Sylvanas ordered her right hand man as both of them got on their respective steed and made their way towards Arthas waiting on his own horse.

Arthas greeted the two. "Windrunner, Marris. We're moving up front, the scouts should be waiting near the gate."

* * *

"Here it is, the expedition is moving." Arator said looking at the moving army.

"You ready Arator?" Thorik Flameback asked, resting his rifle against his shoulder as the hunter/marksman finished packing his belongings and tools.

"Already done." Arator said as he put on the final pieces of his armor.

"Let's get moving to our formation, they're not going to wait for us." Tyrel Kimberly urged, the stout woman wielding a large shield and a mace.

"Can't wait to put my daggers on our enemies. Stratholme will see it avenged." Gimkaz Slipcue sheathed in her daggers.

Their resident elves of their team, Caeen and Nelysae were silent on the matter, but their body language showed their eagerness to get on with the coming adventure and battle. Caeen cleaned his blade one last time and gave it a experimental swing before ambuing magic to it; Nelysae put on blade fist weapons over her arms and whispered out prayers in Darnassian.

Looking to the army that was marching towards the direction of the gate, taking them to another world Light knows what was awaiting for them on the other side. He wasn't sure if the gate would close on them and leave them stranded unable to return home. Was this the feeling his parents had when they led the Alliance expedition through the Dark Portal?

Giving the sign for his friends to move, they made their way to the Alliance force, composed mostly of humans and elves with a number of other Alliance races.

One thing for sure was that interesting times were coming ahead… And he hoped they would find some good loot after this call.


End file.
